


dear diary (we fell apart)

by scrxbble



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, For Amy, for the twitter challenge!, i wish i could expand on this but then it wouldn't be a mini fic but still, they're best friends But They're In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrxbble/pseuds/scrxbble
Summary: 5: things you didn't say at allor, penelope and sam at a party, the night before
Relationships: Sam Nightingale/Penelope Everpetal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	dear diary (we fell apart)

**Author's Note:**

> amy theinfaethable this is for you  
> fh mean girls live in my head rent free  
> title is from bubblegum bitch by MARINA!

She wants to say, “You look good tonight.”

She wants to say, “I’ll make you a drink.”

She wants to say, “Drive home with me.”

Instead, Penelope yells over the music, “Did Johnny come with you?”

Sam glances at her and her eyes flash dark, annoyed, frustrated. “Yeah, Pen, he’s parking,” she shouts, and it is not like her to be this short. It is not like her to act this irritated. It is not like her to turn away from Penelope, brush past her towards the counter where the drinks are, and it is not like Penelope to follow.

“Sam,” she says, feeling stupid, feeling confused, coming off as angry. “What the fuck are you pissed about?”

Sam turns, a clear purple cup with rum covering the bottom already in her hand. “I don’t know, Pen, why the fuck do you care about if Johnny’s here?”

It is quieter in the kitchen, and Sam is not shouting anymore, but she might as well have been. Penelope recoils, watches Sam’s mouth set as she turns around and adds Coke to her cup, waits until she’s taking a sip to say, “Are you already fucking drunk?”

Sam swallows, glares. “For gods’ sake, Pen, why do you have to criticize everything I do?”

“I’m not criticizing, Sam, I just think the first day is tomorrow and you’re going to hate orientation with a hangover,” Penelope snipes back, mean on instinct, cruel as second nature, snippy to cover the fact that her heart is beating and bruised and she can’t bear to see her friend mad at her like this but she’ll go to hell before she lets anyone have the last word.

Sam rolls her eyes, goes to leave, and Penelope blocks her way. 

She wants to say, “I’m sorry.”

She wants to say, “I think I love you.”

She wants to say, “Let’s go get milkshakes and you can sleep over.” 

Instead, Penelope says, “Just fucking listen to me for once, Sammie.” Sam takes another sip of her drink and almost covers the fact that she’s rolling her eyes. “I’m not trying to control you, I just don’t like how you’ve been acting lately. It’s not like you.”

“Why, Pen? Because for fucking once I’m not under your thumb entirely? Because I might actually be having a good time with Johnny?” Sam’s breath is alcoholic, but her words sting more. “Because you’re used to me fucking falling in line with no questions? Sorry, P. We’re not kids anymore, and I’m not fucking scared of you.”

“I don’t want you to be scared of me-” Penelope starts, face heating, eyes starting to sting with something like tears, heart feeling hollow in her chest. She is interrupted by a smooth voice from behind her that makes her skin crawl.

“Sam, babe. Was wondering where you got off to.” Johnny slides in, rests his arm around Sam’s shoulder like he owns her, and meets Penelope’s eyes.

There is a moment’s recognition between them: Johnny, knowing that Penelope would rather kill him than have him touch Sam. Penelope, knowing that if she says anything to that effect, she’s as good as dead herself.

She wants to say, “Get away from her.”

She wants to say, “This creep isn’t worth it.”

She wants to say, “Run away with me.”

Instead, Penelope Everpetal straightens her back, blinks away the water in her eyes, puts on a prom-queen smile, and says, “Just having girl talk, J. Have fun,” and, having signed her best friend’s will, takes one look back at the two bodies in the doorway, half-entwined already.

She wants to say, “Kiss me instead.”

But she doesn’t.


End file.
